Thursday, April 09, 2020

At the Grocery Store in the time of Coronavirus

For about 3 weeks, I didn't have any alcohol.

Not to brag or anything, but continuing to try and lose weight, I know that wine or beer are empty pointless calories, and that I'm not getting my steps in as heartily as I was before things changed.

Last Sunday though, I really wanted a glass of wine. Very much so. Just. Some Pinot Grigio from a big black box.

County liquor stores were closed, and I wasn't sure if our usual beer and wine store was open. But we have a little supermarket in town that has beer and wine. After debating if I should go out or not, we realized that we needed cheese for the chili Doug was making. I volunteered to go out.

I didn't wear a face mask, don't have one. And I didn't put a bandana across my face. The cashiers and employees at the market were not covered up, but the registers have plexiglass separating the customer from the till.

Aisles are supposed to be one way but were not clearly marked. I got to the wine aisle and there was a couple shopping. Taking forever. I stood and waited for them to pick their wine, and eventually they noticed I was waiting to come down the aisle. A woman came down the other end of the aisle, not caring that they were there. I sighed and waited for all three to clear out so I could go get my big box of wine.

Get two, I told myself. Who knows when I'll be able to come back out.

I got Fritos for the chili for Geoff, because he likes that. And shredded cheese.

Then I hit the beer aisle.

This little market has a great selection of local craft beers, so I was happy to grab a few six-packs of the locals. I kept my distance from a young black man, tall and thin in a white tank top and baseball hat resting askew on his head. He had a black bandana across his face and looked at me as I pulled some Oscar brewing company beer off the shelf.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" he asked putting his hand up in a "whoa" kind of gesture, an assurance that everything is okay. "I don't want to freak you out, like, I'm wearing a bandana and stuff but I have a question."

I looked at him and smiled, no bandana on my face. "You're not freaking me out, in this the age of the virus and all that, I know exactly what you're wearing that for and it's cool. What can I help you with?"

"That beer you picked up," he gestured to the shelf. "Is that a good one?"

He explained that he's trying to get "more into local craft beers," but they're kind of expensive so he didn't want to waste money on something and not like it.

Oh honey, you asked the right strange old lady about beer. I told him I hadn't tried it yet, it was a new release. "What kind of beers do you like? Are you into really strong flavors, hoppy beers, stouts, fruity gose beers?"

"I'm not sure yet," he laughed. I asked if he liked things like Sam Adams and he said he did. So I pointed him to a local beer that was a nice ale, and another IPA that wasn't too hoppy with a good flavor.

I showed him the ABV percentages, the three different Dogfish Head beers at their "hours" corresponding with their alcohol content. I explained what an APA, NEPA, and DIPA were. I said the fruity summer beers were coming out, the shandy styles and the nice berry gose sours were good for the summer.

"These are expensive," he mentioned. I agreed, and laughed. They are.

"They aren't for chugging, or party beers if your goal is to drink a lot. A DIPA will get you there faster, but what you can do is buy some of these good ones to start and then move on to lame beers like Bud or whatever to keep the party rolling.

He laughed and picked up two sixes of the locals. I told him when this all blows over he should go up to the wonderful Brew Belly, or up further to Olney to the Beer Farm or up to Waredaca and watch the horses run while enjoying one of their great beers.

You can tell when someone is smiling.

I actually thought of saying "Are you on Untappd? Want to be beer friends?" But I thought that would be crossing a line, even for me.

I put a lot of beer into the cart, with the wine, and then 4 bottles of their cheap discount reds that Doug likes.

"You having a party?" he asked. Nope. Just ... being prepared.

We waved goodbye, and I was happy to help him.

I started thinking about how he opened the conversation though, and then I felt incredibly bad that he had to preface his question with assuring me that he wasn't going to kill or rob me. It swept over me, I was really bummed out that it is literally so hard to be a young black man, or heck any POC at all sometimes, in the first place and not to mention the whole "I have a covering on my face to protect me" thing.

I really wanted to go back and ask him to be friends but again did the whole "That's weird even for YOU" speech to myself.

I hope he liked the beer.

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